Paul Hines, a former director of the National Buffalo Associa
tion, raises 19 animals on his 60-acre farm in Churchville, Mary
land. His philosophy is more succinct: "What God made perfect,
just leave alone."
I HE LONELIEST LAND IN THE NATION is not the unpopu
lated wilderness but the vast tracts of semiarid plains
where farming, ranching, and mining are dying industries and the
population is dwindling. Frank Popper, a land-use planner, and
his wife, Deborah, a geographer, suggest turning thousands of
square miles of such marginal land into a vast nature preserve they
call the Buffalo Commons, a sort of American Serengeti where
native animals could roam freely.
Frank got the idea after years of traveling the West. "We saw
ghost towns dotting the plains, communities with boarded-up
storefronts and empty farmhouses. We wandered around, talking
to people, wondering why do towns look this way, what does it
mean, what comes next?"
The Poppers consider the plains as lying between the Rockies
and the 98th meridian, and ranging from Montana to Texas. Their
study shows 110 counties with such signs of distress as population
loss, high poverty, or four people or fewer to the square mile. Most
land is used for cattle, not crops.
Plains dwellers initially denounced them as eastern intellectuals
who wanted to take away their land and livelihood.
"Now," says Frank, "we see that local private-sector initiatives
NationalGeographic, November 1994